Game of Cards, AKA House of Thrones
by Nick Gibb
The camera swoops expensively and majestically down though the expensive, majestic
streets of King's Landing. In accordance with protocol, everyone in shot is being actively ye
olde – carrying a pig, coopering or what-have-you. It's like someone gave three million
dollars to a medieval Richard Scarry. We continue into the grand hall, where a banquet is at
its racous height. At the head of the feast sits a bored child-king who looks like he could
absorb every slap in Westeros and still need more.
Amid the crowd, the camera settles on Frank Underwood, who turns and addresses the
camera directly with a southern accent thicker than a Lannister's wallet. “King Joffrey – do I
believe in him? That's irrelevant. He is ruler of the seven kingdoms -- for the next couple
seasons at least -- and I will believe what he wants me to believe. Do the people like him? I
will say only this: if this show had a live studio audience, you wouldn't catch a word he said
for the booing.
Look! Eddard Stark. Lord Paramount of The North, and a good man. I wouldn't get too
attached to him if I were you though, I've seen Sean Bean in enough other roles to know
which way the wind is blowing. Ol' RR writes like he's in pay negotiations with his characters
and doesn't want any of them getting too sure of their place at the table. Oh, and there's his
lovely wife. Case in point, but I digress.
It's like my pappy used to say: you can cut the head off a rooster but it won't stop the fox
laying eggs in the barn. I personally have no idea what that means, but I'm sure there's a
wisdom to it.
Westeros is divided into a number of noble houses -The Baratheons, The Lannisters, The
Starks, The Targaryens... the.... red something. You know what? I can't remember the rest
and I don't care to google it; I haven't read the books and I don't want spoilers.
As for me, I'm just a lowly horse majority whip; it is my duty to whip a majority of the horses.
Still, do I plan on taking the iron throne myself, in time? Well you may very well think that, but
I couldn't possibly comment.”
At this Varys, the Master of Whispers, leans in to the King’s ear and purses his whole face.
“Your Grace, that stablehand is muttering to himself treasonously.”
“Really?” Joffrey replies, punchably, before standing and pointing one of his awful fingers.
“Hound, kill him!”
“What?” Underwood sputters incredulously, “You can't! I've been talking to the camera! That
makes me the protagonist! You can't kill the protagonist in the first episoAARKH!!”
Underwood burbles his last as the enormous man they call The Hound slits his throat. You’d
think they'd cut away or something, but they don't. You can totally see everything and it's
gross. Cut to black. Credits.